


Auld Lang Syne

by notjustmom



Series: Sherlock Christmas Ficlets 2017 [31]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, New Year's Eve, surprise wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 15:50:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13217019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: prompt 31 Last night / New YearFinishing the year with the boys from "An Unexpected Visitor"...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlwaysJohn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysJohn/gifts), [MorganeUK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganeUK/gifts), [NovaNara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaNara/gifts), [scrub456](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrub456/gifts), [Strawberryhiddleslock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberryhiddleslock/gifts), [almosttomorocco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almosttomorocco/gifts), [DaringD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaringD/gifts).



> For all of my lovely readers who read my bits and bobs and constantly remind me that we are not alone even on those days when it seems so. I wish all of you a very Happy New Year's Eve.

John rolled over, only somewhat surprised not to find Sherlock draped over him as he was most mornings, and reached out to find a small box. He sighed, then sat up and switched on the light, then held the box in his hand for a moment. A deep pur - aubergine ribbon adorned a white bakery box - not just any bakery, but John's favourite bakery. He bit his lip and opened the box and closed his eyes as the scent of cinnamon nearly overwhelmed him. He groaned as he heard his phone ping once, twice, then a third time.

 

Morning. - S

Enjoy your breakfast. Tea in the pot still warm. - S

I have some things to take care of. Meet me at the window just before midnight. Please? - S

 

John threw off his covers, put on his robe, dropping his phone into the pocket and carried his box to the kitchen, to find a full pot of tea and a beautiful deep red rose sitting in a beaker. He rolled his eyes, but took a deep breath in and was struck by the rich scent. He poured out the tea and realised it wasn't their normal tea. It was - god - had he even told Sherlock - it was one of the only things he missed from Afghanistan - there had been - it was no longer - a tiny tea shop, that he would visit - how - he took a sip and his knees nearly buckled. He took a breath and found a way to make it to his chair, where he found another flower - a daffodil, bright and cheerful against the greyness of another cold morning. He laid his roll and mug down to pick up the flower, and for the first time really examined the beauty of what he had once considered a simple flower - how nature designed things - he was always slightly taken aback by the world, he realized then. He blinked, then sat carefully, placed the flower aside, took another sip of tea and decided not to try to consider what was going on. He looked down at his ring, the ring Sherlock had placed on his finger, what, nearly a week ago, now, and -

 

Morning, mate. - GL

If you're looking for Sherlock I don't know where he is. - JW

No, I've been instructed - asked - to take you out for lunch - GL

What - never mind - what time? - JW

Noonish works - at the pub? - GL

Good. Fine. - JW

Don't worry, John, it's a good thing. - GL

Thanks, it has been a bit of a weird morning. - JW

Just let it be, yeah? - GL

Ta. Will do. - JW

 

He put his phone back in his robe pocket and sipped his tea in silence. Silence had once been his enemy. During the time when Sherlock had been away, he tried to fill it up, when he got up, there was always the telly going, or a CD of music he loved but Sherlock couldn't tolerate, he always wore his earbuds on the tube on his way to the surgery to keep people away, mostly, but also to keep his mind from going places where he couldn't go if he were to keep doing the things he had to do. This silence was different, it wasn't just the absence of sound, it was solitude. It was yet another gift, and he wondered once more about the man who had given it to him so freely. 

For the first days and weeks after his return, Sherlock couldn't bear to let him out of his sight - and John had understood, all too well. It was a sentiment he had shared, he had taken a leave of absence, then realised he couldn't go back to the surgery - it had been a means of survival during the years of Sherlock's 'time away', now it was a reminder of those times when he had no reason to go to an empty flat. Eventually, they returned to working cases, and of course, eventually, Sherlock mostly returned to his old habits, mostly, but he nearly always let John know -

 

Tea acceptable? - S

It's lovely. Thank you. - J

Good. I love you. - S

Love you too. - J

 

He finished his tea and his roll, and simply sat for a moment. He remembered another New Year's Eve. Not so long ago, but it felt - it could have been a different lifetime. He had always wondered if he had just put his glass down and walked over to Sherlock, taken the violin from him and kissed him as the last strike of midnight rang out, if things could have - if - he shook his head. No. They - he hadn't been ready yet. He still hadn't faced his feelings for Sherlock by then. Not completely. It wouldn't have worked - he, they would have lost everything - at least that's what he had told himself. It had kept him from - shower. Time for a shower. He got up slowly, sighing as he heard each joint pop in or out of place, then made his way to the shower, and took his time, as no one was barging in - no, he didn't really do that anymore, and usually - John thought with a smile, they shared a shower these days, and he missed - he missed Sherlock's long arms wrapping around him as he - damn - he shook his head and turned off the water before it turned cold, toweled off, then went into their bedroom and opened his closet, to find a clothes bag that hadn't been there yesterday - what - 

 

For later - S

You're worse than your brother - J

He has his uses once in a while. :) - S

 

John rolled his eyes, still unaccustomed to Sherlock's use of emojis, then closed his closet and pulled open a drawer, jumper and jeans, then. He dressed quickly, and checked the time, only ten, still a couple of hours before he was supposed to meet Greg for lunch. He did need to work on the latest blog post, he always did a New Year's letter, since that first New Year's, kind of a 'Best of' wrap up of the past year. Last year's had been a doozy to say the least - had gone viral when he had at last blogged about Sherlock's return - this year - he had decided not to share news of their engagement - he was still adjusting to the idea - that they would - that Sherlock wanted to be - the man who had once shunned sentiment, seeing it as a weakness, would one day be his husband. He blinked away the tears that were filling his eyes, and made his way to their desk, and opened his laptop, and began to type.


	2. Chapter 2

31 December 2015

 

A red rose means romantic love, the daffodil devotion... 

 

He sat back and stared at the words he had just typed. How did he know - he just knew - and Sherlock must have - he had deleted the solar system, but had saved some arcane bit of Victoriana, just in case? Or had he asked an 'expert'? No - it was something -

 

It has been a year and six days since Sherlock returned from the dead. Since he showed up at Baker Street on a bitterly cold Christmas Night; since he, since I, since we finally became what we were always meant to be. He is no longer the man I met at Bart's, but then I am not the same as I was that day, we have managed to survive, somehow, together. I still wonder how sometimes. I do know that without him reaching out to a perfect - no, to a completely broken stranger that day, I would not be here now. I know that, every breath I take - is because of him, because he saw - he recognised - or perhaps he knew he needed me, or anyone - that day. I like to think not anyone would have done, that there was something in me, but I still don't know what -

 

He shook his head and was about to delete everything when the buzzer interrupted him. He groaned, but slipped his shoes on and went down to the door and flung it open to see Mycroft standing there. "Since when do you ring the buzzer?"

"I was asked to deliver this - and if you were still present, to ask you not to open it - it was supposed to be delivered last night - however. Humans, being fallible as they are -" Mycroft handed John the box then made a small bow and walked away. John made his way upstairs and realised he was nearly late to meet Greg. He sighed and read the top of the box. "Refrigerate upon arrival. No Peeking." John had to laugh - all of the times - but did as he was instructed, then grabbed his coat and keys and flew down the stairs.

 

"Sorry I'm late -"

"Just got here myself. Kids are - crazy, Molly's better with them, but it's been so cold, and they haven't had enough time outside -"

"Do you know -"

Greg raised his hand and two pints were delivered. "Yes, but, I'm just -"

"Doing what you've been told to do?" John sighed into his pint, but shrugged. "I have - it's been a little over a year since he's been home, and I'm still - he's -"

"He's the luckiest bloke I know."

John opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind.

"No, I know - you've both been through it - it's just he didn't think you'd still be there, when he got back."

"He's talked to you?"

Greg shrugged. "Yeah, the night - he came home - he found me - he didn't know - he was a mess, he'd gotten out on his own, somehow - made contact with Myc's people - but wouldn't go to hospital, I helped him got him cleaned up - bandaged him up as much as I could, then he asked after you, and I told him you were still at Baker Street, you'd never left - never thought I'd see the day - if I hadn't seen it with my eyes, mate - he - then he asked if you were - you know, 'with' anyone - and I shook my head, he nearly fainted away. We haven't spoken of that night - he's changed - all for the better - but I think he sees me - dunno - he texts me sometimes, we meet and chat, really he chats, I listen - almost like I'm his confessor or somethin' - no, he's not unhappy - far from it - he just sometimes tells me things he can't tell you - about his time away, things he regrets - doesn't want to... I'm starving! Pickle and cheese? Or Fish and Chips? -"

John laughed as he put his pint down. "Fish and Chips, I think -" He looked up at the telly and noticed the match was about to start. "Do we have time to stay for the match?"

"Yep. Got all day, mate."

 

John brushed the snow from his shoulders as he knocked the snow from his shoes. Of course it had started to snow while they had watched not just one match, but a match and a ridiculous rom/com that the bartender had been convinced to put on afterwards. He and Greg had rolled their eyes but eventually got sucked into the plot and only left after the end credits had finally sped past.

"Wish Molly and the girls a Happy New Year for me, Greg. And thank you - for - everything."

"Pleasure, mate, just glad to see you two finally figure things out."

"Ta. Me too." John had pulled out his wallet and Greg had shaken his head. 

"Nope. Put it away."

"Right. See ya next year."

"Next year."

He looked at his phone. Still six hours to midnight. Time for a nap. He yawned, toed out of his wet shoes and made his way into their bedroom, and fell into bed.

 

"John."

"Hmmm?"

"Meet me at the window in ten minutes? Time to put on your new suit."

"Wha?"

"The bag in the closet? Shoes optional, but there's a new pair in there, if you feel the need."

John opened his eyes to see Sherlock smiling at him. His curls were perfect, he'd had a haircut, to just the right length - and he was dressed in a beautiful suit, no tie, but a gorgeous aubergine shirt was visible. John reached out and touched his face lightly and nodded, words seemed superfluous at the moment.

"Good." Sherlock kissed his forehead and left the room.

 

"Mike?"

"John. You two clean up nicely."

"What - "

"I - a while back I, well, to make a few bucks on the side, I can perform non-denominational rites of marriage - all very legal and whatnot."

"Rites of -"

He heard the bells begin, it was seconds away from the new year and they were standing in the same window where Sherlock had played them into the new year not so very long ago. He gazed up into Sherlock's eyes and shook his head, then took his hands in his and nodded.

"I'm just here to make everything count, this is your show, Sherlock."

Sherlock blew out the breath he had been holding, then looked into John's eyes and began. "John. You know, if necessary, I could talk for days about the reasons we are standing here right now, but I won't, I promise. I thought about a huge wedding, you know, serviettes, menu planning, best men, or women, flower girls, all that - and then I realised I - we didn't need all that, and I wanted to be married to you as soon as possible. Before I met you, I didn't believe people needed other people, at least I didn't. I honestly didn't think there was anyone who would ever want me, need me - and then - that day - it seems so long ago now, but it wasn't - you walked through the door with Mike - and I saw everything - and knew you saw everything about me when you handed me your phone, and - I had no choice - but to - I understood, or thought I did... I stand before you tonight, or this morning as it is now, as a man who realised, almost too late, just how very necessary you are to me. And I know of no other way to tell you - I know I did it in a bit of a dramatic way, but I wanted to give you a day - damn. I am a bit of a drama queen after all - I swear, John, to you, to the best of my abilities, such as they are, that I will continue to love you, cherish you, and try to keep non-edible specimens in the extra freezer downstairs. And pick up milk once in a while." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, then slid it onto John's finger, and bent down to kiss his knuckles, then straightened up and wiped his eyes.

John cleared his throat. "Idiot. Not you, me. I - have walked through most of my life on my own, even surrounded by people. No one ever - until you, really saw me. You looked up from that microscope that day and I - I'd never felt more naked in my life until that moment, or more understood, and honestly, it scared me. Nothing had scared me before, but you - it was - I had never felt vulnerable before - not in that way - you. I'm saying this badly. You changed me, Sherlock, from that very first moment - and then when you died - I had to find a way to let go of who I had become when I was with you, so I could go on without you -" Sherlock nodded and reached out for John's hand, and sighed quietly as John threaded their fingers together. "This morning - on this first day of the new year, I promise to love you, care for you, and stay with you for the rest of my life."

"Pocket." Sherlock whispered.

John rolled his eyes, but reached into his pocket and pulled out the very ring he would have picked out for Sherlock. He raised an eyebrow but went on, "I give you this ring as a symbol of the love and respect I have for you now and always." Then he looked over at Mike who nodded with a grin, and pulled his new husband into a gentle kiss, then laughed as Mike whistled.

"Took you two long enough - you'll get my bill in the mail, - 'night boys."

"Night, Mike," they muttered together, as he silently disappeared out of the flat.

"Happy New Year, John."

"Happy New Year, Sherlock."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and last chapter... <3

Sherlock wasn't sure how long they stood there at the window, but at some point, John had leaned against him, his eyes closed, and he began humming something, and soon, they were dancing together, in their own world, separate from the noise of the New Year's celebration that was happening outside. And then, someone kissed someone else. He wasn't quite sure who did what first, all he knew was that -

"You did it, you mad bastard."

"Uhmhmmm."

"Is there a cake in the fridge?"

"You peeked?"

"Uhm, no, my genius husband - when your brother shows up at the door, actually rings the buzzer, hands me a cake shaped box, then turned around without a single smart-arse remark, I figure cake was involved."

"Hmmm. You are learning -"

"No, I just know your brother - is there champagne to go with it?"

"Course."

"Are you hungry?"

Sherlock shook his head.

"Good, me either - we can't really carry each other across the threshold, so - what do you say -"

Sherlock picked John up in his arms before he could say another word and carried him to their room, then laid him on the bed, and began to undress. 

"Slow down. I want to watch." Sherlock rolled his eyes, but carefully removed his shoes, and his socks, then slid out of his bespoke jacket. John laughed as he could see Sherlock cringe slightly as it hit the floor. He raised an eyebrow at him, but then his hands moved to his buttons and John went silent as he got up from the bed and stood in front of him, and laid his hands gently over his chest. "You do know - how very much I love you."

Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes as John deftly pulled the silk shirt from his trousers and began to undo the tiny buttons that were barely holding the shirt around him. "Husband," Sherlock whispered into John's hair, and his fingers stilled and flattened against his chest.

"Husband. Tell me?"

"It's nothing, no - it's everything - I - just - hmm -"

"You didn't think it through, did you - it means more than you thought - doesn't it? But you know what, we are the same as we were before, the same friends, partners, lovers. Now, we just have shiny new rings, and we made promises to continue as we are. Nothing else has changed, yeah?"

Sherlock nodded and John flicked the last button open, then gently undid his cuffs and pushed the shirt from his arms and to the floor. "I do love that colour on you, always have - but I much prefer it off of you." And as always, as he had done the first time they had made love, John led him to bed, and had him roll onto his stomach, so John could, as he called it, 'kiss the pain away.' This time, as he straddled Sherlock's strong thighs, he laid down, pressing his body into Sherlock's until he felt him shudder beneath him. John grabbed his hands and held on. "You are not alone, love. You are not alone. I'm here, Sherlock." 

They lay together, simply breathing together, just existing together for what seemed like hours when Sherlock squeezed John's hands and murmured, "I know. John -" John nodded and moved off the bed and began to undress, carefully hanging up each piece of the suit Sherlock had bought for him, even as Sherlock grumbled.

"You bought this thing, I'm trying to make it last -" John laughed. "Just don't ever tell me how much you paid for this - for the whole, what, twenty minutes?" 

"If you come back over here, I can help you take it off -"

John finally stepped out of the silk pants and smirked at the man who was watching him."Red, really?" and climbed back into bed.

"I like you in red, I like you even better - John -" Sherlock moaned as he felt John's fingers on his flies then slowly worked his trousers and pants off, letting them fall to the floor, as Sherlock pulled John tightly against him, letting him know, letting him feel how much he was needed. "John."

"Shhhh... I know, love." John shifted so he could look into Sherlock's eyes and let out a gasp. "Sherlock?"

"I'm - I'm fine, John. Truly. No, I am -" He smiled and touched John's lips. "I - just - thank you, John. I don't know that I ever thanked you for not giving up on me, for just being here, for being you. I don't know what I ever did to deserve you -" 

John shook his head then kissed Sherlock's tears away and whispered, "you're an idiot, love. All you ever had to do was exist. A long time ago, I realised I was meant to love you, that's why I'm here."

"Happy New Year, John."

"Happy New Year, Sherlock."


End file.
